


one night like this

by ohvictor



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 13:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20292217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohvictor/pseuds/ohvictor
Summary: A typical night in the IDOLiSH7 dorm.





	one night like this

**Author's Note:**

> this is my piece for the i7 flashbang! i was paired w te, who drew an incredible piece for this fic (embedded at the end)! you can check out her piece [on twitter here](https://twitter.com/frillydinosaur/status/1163154732652859392)!

“Our intrepid leader, passed out on the couch at seven in the evening.”

Mitsuki nudges said leader with his foot, succeeding only in leaving a sad dent in the back of Yamato’s shirt. Otherwise, Yamato doesn’t move from his position facedown on the living room couch.

It’s obvious that he’s asleep, even with his face hidden. His snores are audible halfway across the house, and the floor around the couch is littered with empty beer cans. Clearly Yamato took full advantage of his day off. Well, at least he didn’t leave Mitsuki any dishes to do, if Mitsuki’s charitable and doesn’t count the little army of beer cans. 

“He’s a powerful sleeper,” Tamaki says wisely. “He didn’t wake up when Sou-chan kicked over one of his beer cans and it made a loud noise—”

“That was an _accident_,” Sougo cuts in, “and I recycled it right after!”

“You don’t need to pick up for him,” Mitsuki says. He gives the back of Yamato’s head an irritated look. “Lazy old man.” 

“Why don’t you wake him up?” Iori says. He looks ready to do it, to shake Yamato’s shoulder or prod his back, given the way he’s shifting the homework supplies in his arms to one hand.

“He probably needs his sleep!” Riku offers, popping up behind Iori like a voice of reason. 

Iori frowns. “He’s clearly passed out from being drunk.”

“He might still need his sleep. You don’t know, Iori.”

“Bold of you to assume any mortal _can_ wake Yamato up,” Nagi says, appearing at the end of the couch with a cryptic smile and a finger to his lips. 

“What’s that mean, Nagicchi?”

Nagi winks.

“_Well_,” Mitsuki says, “I’m going to make myself something to eat. If he wakes up while I’m doing things in the kitchen, that’s his own problem. Does anyone else want anything?”

“I’ll have pudding,” Tamaki says.

“You can get that yourself.” Mitsuki gives Yamato’s back a slap that probably _could_ have been gentler, and heads off into the kitchen. 

The tile needs to be swept soon, but he can do that after he cooks. There should be leftover rice and chicken he can reheat, and he can whip up some eggs to go with it. Simple to make, but filling. With a plan for the meal forming in his head, he starts taking ingredients out of the fridge and bowls down from cupboards, ready to cook.

Sougo comes into the kitchen after him, stifling a yawn behind his hand. “I can help, Mitsuki-san.”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Mitsuki pats Sougo’s back, a lot more kindly than he had Yamato’s. “Go take it easy. I can make you something too.”

Sougo wavers; he must be very tired, if he’s not immediately jumping to counter Mitsuki brushing him off. “I... I guess,” he decides. “I’ll sit in the living room, though, so if you do need me...”

“Go, go,” Mitsuki encourages him, shooing him gently with his hands. As soon as Sougo trudges out of the kitchen, Mitsuki puts a pan on the stove to heat up, and starts transferring portions of rice and chicken to a plate to microwave. 

Behind him, Tamaki grabs a pudding from the fridge and a spoon to eat it with, and then heads over to the couch unoccupied by Yamato. “Nagicchi, I want to watch that anime.”

“Magical☆Kokona?” Nagi scrambles to join Tamaki on the couch. 

“No, I’ve already seen that. You know that.” 

“He just wants to watch it again,” Mitsuki calls. His arms are laden with containers of spices, and he quickly sets them down on the counter once he sees Sougo start to get up. “Don’t let him, Tamaki.”

“Mitsuki,” Nagi says mournfully.

“Aren’t you all making a lot of noise?” Sougo says, his own tone just above a whisper. “Yamato-san is still asleep, after all...”

“Yama-san will sleep through anything,” Tamaki says. 

“Honestly,” Iori sighs. He’s spreading his homework out on the dining room table, though leaving ample space for Mitsuki to eat. “Just wake him up if you’re so worried.”

“That would defeat the purpose of being quiet to _not_ wake him up!” Sougo whisper-calls.

“But we’re going to watch anime,” Tamaki says. He snaps his fingers. “Nagicchi, I remembered. It had a cat.”

“Oh!” Nagi scrambles for the remote. In the kitchen, Mitsuki cracks an egg into the hot pan, and the resulting sizzle drowns out the rest of Nagi’s excited anime talk. Idly, Mitsuki sprinkles some salt into the pan and reaches for a spatula to scrape the sides with.

Riku shuffles into the kitchen and peers over Mitsuki’s shoulder. “That looks good, Mitsuki.” 

“Do you want some food?” Mitsuki leans back against Riku, resting as the egg cooks. 

“No, I ate already...” The microwave beeps behind them, and Riku turns to open the door and remove the plate. He sets it on the counter quickly and shakes his hands out. “Ah... Hot!”

“Careful,” Mitsuki chides. “Thanks, Riku. Can you see if Iori needs help with his work?”

“I don’t,” Iori says from the table.

“He doesn’t,” Riku agrees. “He’s doing math I never even—”

He’s drowned out by a blast of sound from the TV. It must be the anime Tamaki and Nagi were talking about, because there’s a cat onscreen, as well as some other animals, and the opening theme is so loud that even the spatula on the countertop rattles. Mitsuki and Riku watch in shocked silence as Nagi dives for the remote and turns the volume down as fast as the buttons will respond.

In unison, they all turn to look at Yamato on the couch. 

He doesn’t move. 

“You know, I _did_ say not to bother being quiet for Yamato-san’s sake,” Mitsuki says in the silence that follows, “but I don’t remember telling you to _make as much noise as humanly possible_.”

“I’m sorry,” Nagi says, clasping his hands in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Mitsuki, and I’m sorry, Yamato... All I have to offer now is anime...”

“It’s good.” Tamaki’s settled on the couch, his knees hugged against his chest and the pudding cup in his hands already half-eaten. “Nagicchi, come sit and watch. Sou-chan, you too.”

Sougo eyes the couch. “I don’t really...” 

“Sougo-san, come help Iori with his math,” Riku calls, patting the seat beside him at the table. 

“I already told you, I don’t need help,” Iori huffs.

Sougo laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “I don’t think Iori-kun needs help from a college dropout from me...”

“Watch anime with us, then,” Nagi says.

They’re all being very cruel. Mitsuki watches Sougo sweat for another moment, and then calls, “Actually, Sougo, I could use your help in here.”

“Oh,” Sougo says, jumping up and heading into the kitchen. “Mitsuki-san...”

There’s nothing he really needs Sougo to do, but he pushes his plate of chicken and rice into Sougo’s hands anyway. “Can you put this in the microwave again for me? Just for like, ten seconds. I don’t think it heated all the way through.”

“Yes!” Sougo carefully opens the microwave door and puts the plate inside. Mitsuki turns back to the stove and flips his little omelet over again. It’s almost done, and with the chicken and rice at a nice warm temperature, his dinner should be ready. 

The microwave pings as he’s turning the stove off, and Sougo grabs the plate from the microwave and holds it out for Mitsuki to slide his egg onto. Mitsuki rinses off the egg pan and leaves it in the sink for his future self, and takes the plate from Sougo with a smile of thanks. He grabs chopsticks from a drawer, eyes the table, where Iori and Riku have spread out Iori’s homework to bicker over, and heads for the living room instead. Sougo trails after him, still yawning.

“There’s not enough room for both of us on Nagi and Tamaki’s couch,” he tells Sougo, a sudden grin on his face, “so one of us is going to have to shove Yamato-san’s feet aside and sit there.”

“Ah...” Sougo hesitates. “I’ll just go back to my room! I’m tired, anyway...”

“Sou-chan, sit with us,” Tamaki says, patting the space next to him on the couch. 

Sougo looks at Mitsuki, who nods. “Yeah, sit there. I’ll take responsibility for our leader.” He nudges Yamato’s legs aside and sits awkwardly on the edge of the couch. Yamato’s still snoring, miraculously. “Turn the TV up, Nagi.”

“It’s almost the commercial break,” Nagi says. 

“I don’t care about the show,” Mitsuki specifies. “I just don’t want to hear this old man snoring.”

“You are so mean,” Nagi says, but he turns the TV volume up anyway. 

Sure enough, Mitsuki only gets a few bites into his dinner before the anime title card displays on the screen, prompting a smooth transition into commercials. Tamaki gets up and heads to the kitchen to throw away his pudding cup, and Nagi stretches languidly and flops across Tamaki’s place on the couch. “You missed a good part of the episode, Mitsuki.”

“Whoops.” Mitsuki shovels a piece of chicken into his mouth. Table manners are for the table, not the couch. He squints at the TV screen, where the commercial is showing a nicely dressed man walking around a clean hardwood floor. “Oh, is this a cleaning robot commercial?”

On the couch beside him, Yamato makes a loud _snnrk_ noise, as if he’d tried to inhale part of his pillow mid-snore, and sits up suddenly. He’s wearing his glasses, though they’ve been smushed into his face by the couch cushions, leaving odd indents on his cheeks. As a result of the position change, his legs knock against Mitsuki, who quickly lifts his plate so it won’t be jostled. Yamato blinks at him, his eyes unfocused and bloodshot.

“Hey, Mitsu—”

“Wow, it’s nice of you to join us,” Mitsuki says, at the same time as Tamaki says, “Whoa, did the cleaning robot commercial summon you, Yama-san?”

“What?” Yamato squints at the screen. “Cleaning robot?”

“I can’t believe you,” Mitsuki snorts. In an unexpected way, though, he’s relieved that Yamato’s awake again. “You slept through a lot of noise.”

“My head hurts.” Yamato squirms into a sitting position, and immediately gets into Mitsuki’s space, eyeing his food. “Smells good.”

“You smell _bad_,” Mitsuki tells him. “Stinky old man.”

The commercial on the TV finishes with a cute jingle for the cleaning robot company, and fades into a commercial for a fast food chain. Yamato’s eyes slide closed again. “Nnh... What time is it.”

“Just before eight,” Nagi says. He hops up from the couch and comes over to Yamato, ruffling his hair. Yamato looks up at him sleepily. “Did you have a nice day off, Yamato?”

“I think so.” Yamato rubs his face and then starts picking up beer cans from the ground by the couch, crowding them into his arms. “Everyone’s home now...”

“Yamato-san!” Riku bounds in from the kitchen. “You’re up!”

“Ahh, loud,” Yamato grimaces. “Hi, Riku.”

“Oh, Nii-san was right,” Iori says from behind Riku, “you do smell.”

“And hi, Ichi.” Yamato fits the last of the beer cans under his armpit and gets off the couch, his legs barely avoiding Mitsuki’s arm. He trudges into the kitchen and unloads all the cans into the recycling bin, and then grabs a cup and fills it with tap water. He drinks this like a man emerging from the desert. The rest of IDOLiSH7 watches him in awe, except Mitsuki, who returns to eating his dinner.

On the TV, the anime episode resumes, capturing Nagi and Tamaki’s focus once more. Iori returns dutifully to the table to finish his homework, but Riku hangs back and joins Mitsuki on the couch, where he watches the anime episode with Nagi and Tamaki. Sougo’s dozing off against the couch cushions, somehow unnoticed by Tamaki, or perhaps Tamaki is letting him rest. Whatever the reason, it’s peaceful in the dorm now, and Mitsuki is able to finish his dinner easily.

When he gets up and returns to the kitchen to clean up, he finds Yamato still leaning against the counter, a glass of water halfway to his lips. He smiles at Mitsuki. “Sorry if I made a mess for you.”

“I can’t be mad now, since you cleaned it up.” Mitsuki steps into Yamato’s space, nudging him aside so he can reach the dishwasher behind him. All of his dishes can go in there, even the egg pan after he gives it a rinse. “Maybe set an alarm next time.”

“Eh? But I woke up just in time to hang out with everyone.”

“We were all home for ages before you woke up, dumbass.”

“Really?” Yamato sighs. 

Mitsuki nods, and reaches behind Yamato again, this time for the broom and dustpan. He jabs the broom at Yamato’s feet, and is impressed when Yamato steps easily out of the way. Even asleep and maybe still drunk, he’s an idol, after all. “I have to sweep.”

“I can do that.” Yamato reaches for the broom. Mitsuki tries to hold it away from him, but Yamato’s taller and his reach is longer, and he easily grabs the broom from Mitsuki’s hands. “Let me do it, Mitsu. Then you can’t be mad at me anymore.”

“I’m not mad at you.” 

“You’re something, though.” 

“You should sweep, Nikaidou-san, as penance for snoring loudly all through the past hour,” Iori says from the table.

“Yeah, see,” Yamato says, nudging Mitsuki’s shoulder with his own, “Ichi wants me to sweep.”

“Well, I can’t argue with my own little brother.” Mitsuki steps aside, leaving the kitchen free for Yamato to sweep. Yamato mock-salutes him, and then gets to work.

Now with nothing to do, Mitsuki returns to the couch he and Yamato had been sitting/laying on, now featuring Riku, who’s talking animatedly with Nagi about the anime they’re still watching. Mitsuki leans against Riku, who smiles and curls an arm around Mitsuki, keeping him there. Like this, Mitsuki could fall asleep, and he _shouldn’t_, since he just ate, but he’s very cozy. Maybe it’s Yamato’s sleepy essence lingering on the couch (gross), or maybe the couch itself is to blame for both himself and Yamato’s sleepiness. 

Whatever the reason, he yawns once, then again, and nestles himself carefully into the couch cushions beside Riku. Closing his eyes for a moment won’t hurt, right?

**Author's Note:**

> :D my twitter is [here](http://twitter.com/futarinoshoutai)! also, i used a guide to help me resize the image here [for mobile](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768186) and desktop.


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